"Hey Preston, you missed a great chase involving an Irish guy and a prostitute..."
But our voices are drowned out as he jacks up the volume on Friends; apparently, his grudge over this evening's dispute is still holding strong.
We slam the door; Rose heads for her room, Chastity, the kitchen, and I, the bathroom. On my way back, I do a double take when I realize Rose is gone.
I screech, Chastity comes running.
"Oh god," she exclaims, "the window's open. You don't think...." I meet her worried gaze. I do. The Irish guy! Within seconds we are pulling on coats over our pajamas, ready to scour the city.
"Preston, we need to go find...." We burst in just in time to find the purported escapee trying to hide herself under Preston's covers.
"Oh, very funny, Rose." Courtney clucks like a mother hen. "I guess you'll just be spending the night in here then. Should I turn off the light for you two?"
Within seconds, the covers are off and a tiny form is bounding past us, her cry of "Noooooo!" lingering in the hall. She dives into her room and promptly passes out. Preston, muttering something incoherent, turns off his light.
I'm about to crawl into my own bed when, suddenly, the apartment is cloaked in darkness. I look outside in the alleyway; strangely, we seem to be the only ones on the street who have lost power. I'm content to call it a night and deal with the situation in the morning, but Chastity has her own agenda.
"Rose, Rose, wake up! The lights are out!" Two seconds later, she pokes her head in. "Ok well, Rose is passed out."
"Chastity, it's really not a big..." but she is already shuffling down the hall to Preston's room.
I hear a muffled, "Preston. Preston! Are you awake? The lights are out, Preston, what are we going to..." and then a loud and distinct, "Chastity. SHUT UP!"
She comes shuffling dejectedly back. "Ok well, Preston's not much of a help."
She crawls into bed, where she lies down for about two seconds before vaulting back upright again and muttering, "I'm so freaked out right now."
"It's FINE, Chastity," I growl. "Just go to sleep."
"You don't understand, Anne. I have such a bad feeling about this. It's like... omigod.... what if..... you know what I'll bet it is? It's the landlord! He's in the apartment and he's toying with our minds! We can't go to sleep or else he's going to kill us!"
"CHASTITY. Stop being ridiculous," I pretend to be nonchalant, but now my heart is pounding. Maybe it’s not such a far-fetched idea after all. We are four kids in a sketchy apartment in the depths of Barcelona... anything could happen, really. I try to fight the terrifying scenarios out of my head to no avail, until I can't take the anxiety any longer and sit up in bed.
"Omigod, now you have me freaked out. We should go make sure there's no one lurking in the apartment."
No answer.
"Chastity? Are you even awake?"
From her side of the bed, a faint snore.
Great. It's down to me and the crazy landlord. The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that the second that I close my eyes is the second I will be hacked to pieces in true horror movie fashion. The only way to foil the psychopath’s plan, clearly, is to stay awake until broad daylight. Which, lucky for my apartment-mates, I am quite skilled at doing.
The next morning, I'm running on four hours of sleep and preparing to eat the instant coffee with a spoon when I notice a cheese sandwich still smoldering in the toaster oven. On the counter are signs of a hastily abandoned preparation, which can only point to one person.
"A cheese sandwich?" I round on Chastity as she emerges from our room. “This is what short-circuited the power?! What was all that talk about the crazy landlord?! I couldn’t fall asleep til 7:00 AM!”
She shrugs, taking the plate. “Sorry. Is the sandwich still edible?”
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